To Kill A Strain
by AtomicCrayon
Summary: Saruhiko's throat clamped up, a rock suddenly forming at the base of it. Hands turned into fists, his nails dug into his palms as his eyes simultaneously opened a fraction wider in shock. Not because he couldn't kill a crying strain, no. It was nothing of the sort. He wasn't nearly that compassionate. It just seemed uncomfortably familiar to him. "Misaki?" .::ONE-SHOT::.


**Fandom: **K

**Pairings**: Fushimi/Yata

**Warnings:** Contains blood, violence, and implied same-sex relationship.

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Fushimi could feel his pulse hammering inside his throat and ears. His breaths came in shallow, painful huffs as his heart hammered against his chest. His legs and side burned from running for nearly two hours now, trying to catch the strain that always seemed to be a step ahead of him. It was well after two in the morning, and exhaustion had already claimed the Blue's mind forever ago. Still, he was determined to kill the blasted creature tonight so he could just get it done with. It had already caused him almost a week's worth of sleep deprivation.

The tall male hadn't even seen when he had left his subordinates behind-who had been right behind him the last time he checked-, too obsessed with catching up with the strain ahead of him to notice. Still, it bothered him to no end how he could be overpowered by this creature, his growing irritation the only thing his body was adrenalized by now.

Saruhiko had to admit, though, that the strain could most certainly run. So fast, in fact, that the only thing Fushimi ever saw of it was its retreating black figure up ahead, always turning a corner when the blue was just coming around the last one. It didn't help that the strain only ever came out to cause trouble once the sun was already gone and darkness covered all of Shizume city. Fushimi could barely see, his only source of light being the occasional streetlamps.

Suddenly, a change flashed over the running man's face. He grinned maniacally as he watched the unknown dark figure turn a corner once more. It didn't bother him this time. Because he ran around the city enough to know that that corner led to a dead end alley, with brick walls on all three sides.

Fushimi let out a dark chuckle as he sped up to block the only open entrance left. Sure enough, there it was. A streetlamp behind him gave enough lighting to show the strain had its back to Saruhiko and was staring at the walls around him.

Despite his exhaustion, Saruhiko couldn't help the cocky look he let come across his face as he stood guarding the opening. A chuckle escaped his lips at seeing the strain become fidgety.

"So it seems I've finally caught you," he said in a low tone, not thinking twice about the fact that the strain had yet to turn around. "Tch. You've certainly been a pain these past few days. It'll be nice to finally get some sleep."

He started to walk forward slowly, step by step. When he was finally a few feet away from the cause of his exhaustion, he rested a hand on his sword. Before he drew it, though, he clicked his tongue in irritation. "You don't even have enough dignity to face the person who's going to kill you?" he said, voice reaching an angry tone. How was he supposed to see the strain's death expression now?

The creature said nothing and made no move to turn around. Instead, it hung its head in what almost seemed like sorrow.

Another irritated click of the tongue. "Suit yourself, you coward." After a brief second, the blue growled angrily. He pulled his saber out, preparing it for a battle. "Fushimi, ready."

Suddenly, the blunette heard something that made him pause from pure shock. Was that a sob? The sob was quickly accompanied by what could only be soft crying. Confused, Fushimi looked around, trying to figure out where it was coming from, but finding no other source. It was only the strain and himself standing in the alley, the rest of the place deserted. He knew he wasn't crying. With horror, he turned to look at what could be the only thing crying: the strain.

His throat clamped up, a rock suddenly forming at the base of it. Hands turned into fists, his nails digging into his palms as his eyes simultaneously opened a fraction wider in shock. Not because he couldn't kill a crying strain, no. It was nothing of the sort. He wasn't nearly that compassionate.

It was because he could recognize those exact sobs from anywhere. Everyone had their own way of crying, and he knew who those belonged to.

He lowered his poised saber, swallowing what little hydration was left in his mouth. Gingerly, he opened his mouth.

"Misaki?"

The unknown person in front of him seemed to be trying to stop his shoulders from shaking so hard as he slowly turned around to face Saruhiko, finally revealing his facial features.

Sure enough, Saruhiko's eyes met with the former HOMRA member's delicate features. The redhead's eyes were reddened from all the tears running down his cheeks, coming to a stop at the base of his chin and falling down to make dark circles on the shorter male's shirt.

Saruhiko opened his mouth, only to close it again in shock. He couldn't exactly register what was going on. Had he seriously spent this entire week chasing after Misaki? But that was…_impossible_ to put it in the least. Saruhiko knew he would have noticed something like that.

Finally, he gathered up enough air in his lungs to speak. "Misaki.…what are you doing here!? You're supposed to be at the apartment asleep hours ago!"

Another light sob escaped Yata's lips as he wiped a sleeve across his cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead only managed a pitiful whimper. "Saru..,"he finally managed in an almost inaudible whisper before breaking down again.

Saruhiko almost choked on his own breath, trying to get his chest to stop aching, of which he had managed to convince himself was caused by all the running he had done and not the fact that his Misaki was sobbing in front of him. Either way, he walked closer to the other until he was able to wrap his arms around his smaller form, hugging him tightly to his chest, gingerly noticing how cold the other was.

He let the shorter cry for about a minute before pulling him away from his body, looking over the other's face. "Misaki, what are you doing here?"

It took a moment before the other finally said something. "I'm sorry, Saru, "he managed before looking down at his feet.

"About what?" Fushimi responded. When his answer started taking longer than it should, he cupped Yata's face with one hand and forced him to look him in the eyes. "Misaki, answer me right now. I could have killed you, so you better have a good explanation for this," he said, his voice becoming stern and a bit angry.

"I needed to see HOMRA!" the shorter finally admitted, his outburst making the other freeze. He grabbed the hand holding his chin up and pushed it away from himself. "I'm sorry, Saru. You wouldn't understand! You never even cared about HOMRA!"

Fushimi clicked his tongue with irritation. "And what does that have to do with this? You could have easily gone in the day!"

"No, because if you found out you wouldn't have let me! You're such a controlling boyfriend!"

The taller male let a low growl, eyeing the other with furrowed brows. He slowly took a few steps back from Yata, continuing to watch the other.

Misaki noticed the odd expression the other was giving him and a worried expression crossed his features. "Saru?...W-what's wrong?"

A moment passed, and the blue's face turned from questioning to simply bored. He let out an exasperated sigh and ran a hand through his already messed up hair. He finally looked back at the other, eyeing him over with a smile. "Dangerous things happen when you're out at night…._Mi~sa~ki_~." A maniacal grin suddenly spread across Saru's face as he stretched the name out, the sudden, mid-sentence attitude change baffling the other.

Yata's eyes grew wide as he watched a crazy glint cover the other's eyes, giving him an almost insane look. "Saru? …W-what do you mean?"

Fushimi laughed. "Oh, Misaki…" he said, raising his sword once again. He examined the blade before looking back at the other, a sharp look in his eyes. When he spoke, his tone was completely darkened over, sending a chill up Misaki's spine. "I think you know exactly what I mean."

Before the redhead could even move, Saruhiko sprung forward, saber in hand. He let out a laugh as he felt the metal pierce through the other's chest, crushing bones and impaling soft tissue until finally piercing his heart.

Eyes wide and staring forward, Yata let out a gasp before blood came up into his mouth, blossoming on his lips until it ran down his chin, following the same path his tears had. The crimson liquid trickled down and painted his white shirt, creating a series of red and white patterns.

As quickly as it had come in, Saruhiko yanked the weapon back out of Yata's chest, watching as more blood flowered out of the gaping hole that led to the other's heart. The redhead struggled to breath as he stared at Saruhiko with disbelief and betrayal before falling to his knees. His chest heaved and he watched as blood trickled down and painted the ground beneath him and then felt himself fall into the same puddle.

Saruhiko let out a small laugh before reaching with his foot and kicked the other so he was facing upward.

Breaths accompanied with stabbing pains, Yata allowed tears to form in his eyes as he stared at Fushimi. After a series of coughs that produced even more blood, he said in a weak tone, "…H-how could you, Saru?"

Saruhiko clicked his tongue in irritation, looking down on the other with bored eyes. "Enough with the crap already, you sick piece of nothing. It's bad enough you're wearing his face."

A moment, then two passed before the redhead said anything. He let out a cackling laugh as insanity rose to his hazel eyes. The laugh, however, quickly dissolved to a series of coughs that added to the ground's crimson collection. "So how'd you know?" he said in a voice that sounded nothing like Misaki's.

"Tch. You're too obvious," responded Saruhiko, rolling his eyes. He crouched down to be closer to Misaki's look-alike. "In fact, you made three major mistakes." He held up one finger. "The first one was, you're freezing. Misaki is never cold. He has a fire aura, that's common sense."

"The second one," he continued, holding up two fingers now. "was HOMRA. You said you were out because you wanted to see HOMRA. The thing is, HOMRA bar was torn down two years after the death of the Red King, Suoh Mikoto. The real Misaki was there when it happened, so he would never go out in the middle of the night to 'see HOMRA'. He doesn't even like going down that street anymore."

"Your last mistake," said Saruhiko, glaring down at the creature impersonating Yata. "was calling me a 'controlling boyfriend'." The blue let out a tired sigh, once again standing up. He dusted his uniform pants off with the hand not holding his sword before continuing in a monotone voice. "The real Misaki never refers to me as his 'boyfriend'. He's too embarrassed to and will deny it to everyone who implies it."

The strain chuckled darkly, still wearing Misaki's face. "Someone sounds bitter. What, tired that your little lover won't confess his feelings?"

Saruhiko clicked his tongue in irritation, but otherwise seemed unfazed by the comment. "We've been together for almost three years. We're well beyond that childish point."

Blood continued to run from the open gap in the strain's chest as he started to heave for breath more than before, showing he had little time left. "Three years," he panted, swallowing a gulp of copper. His blood-stained lips curled into a grin, quickly scanning through the few memories he had managed to steal from Yata. "Almost four, I see. Happy anniversary."

"Thank you," replied Saruhiko, his glasses shadowing his eyes darkly. "Consider your death my present." With that said, he once again thrust his sword into the other's body, this time piercing his throat. The strain let out a finally gag before blood began to pour out of his mouth, eyes instantly losing life before turning dead and cold.

Saruhiko watched this, trying not to care. Because he shouldn't care. He should be proud to finally kill the strain who made him run around after midnight for a week. Angrily, he gave his saber a finally twist, just to prove himself to the already-dead being, before yanking it out and sheathing it once more. He stopped, however, when he accidentally gave a final glance at the bleeding, broken body.

It was Misaki's face. It was Misaki's cold, frozen eyes watching him and it was Misaki's dead lips forever stuck in a slightly-opened position. Saru felt his heart skip a beat. He took in a deep breath through his nose, his fist tightening around his saber.

_It's not Misaki. You know it's not. Misaki is waiting for you at home, alive and breathing, _he tried to convince himself.

With a sharp movement, he turned and left the body that looked so much like his Misaki. But before he could even walk out of the alley, the blue reached into his pocket and fished out his phone, hitting speed dial and listening to the rhythmical ringing. It rang one…two…three…four….five times before Yata's tired and angry voice sounded into Saruhiko's ear.

"Tch. Waddaya want, you stupid monkey? It's three in the freaking morning, dontcha have a stupid clock?!"

The bluenette grinned at hearing the other's voice.

"Oi, Saru?!..._Oi_!.. Why aren't you answering!? Tch! Don't wake people up if your aren't going to say anything!"

Saruhiko chuckled into the phone. "Goodnight, Misaki," he said, before hanging up.

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**A/N: **Just a really stupid idea that came to me and wouldn't go away. Of course, it was better in my head. A lot better *sobs*. I tried to keep them in character, I really did. But it's just so hard and I'm so weak when it comes to angst. This is also some of my head canons that I created out of dust one day. Go figure.

This is my first K fanfiction. Well actually I have tons more, I just never post them. Also, I suck at titles and summaries.

Well, I hope SOMEONE likes this. If you do, please drop me off a review! I'll bake you a batch of cookies if you do.


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